


A Pretty Good Pair

by whelvenwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whelvenwings/pseuds/whelvenwings
Summary: Castiel needs a partner to take to dinner with his boss, in the hopes of landing a major promotion at work. The only problem? His definite lack of a partner. When his roommate Dean offers to step in, Castiel can't turn him down - after all, it would only be one fake date with the guy he's been in love with for two years. What could possibly go wrong?





	A Pretty Good Pair

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we really need the table…”

“Five more minutes,” Castiel said. “Just five.”

He checked his phone under the table as the waiter walked away.

Nothing.

His boss, on his left, gave an impatient sigh.

“Castiel, we should just order,” Naomi said. Across the table, her partner Bartholomew gave a curt nod. Castiel swallowed hard.

“He’ll be here,” he said. “He just -”

“Got stuck in traffic,” said a voice behind Castiel, and then there was a light kiss being pressed to his cheek, and he was turning to find Dean Winchester standing above him and squeezing his shoulder. “Sorry, Cas. I’m here. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

As Dean took a seat, Castiel gave him a wide-eyed look that tried to encompass everything he was feeling, and couldn’t even begin to do one percent of the job. Dean raised his eyebrows in return.

A brief flash of their conversation of two days earlier flashed into Cas’ mind.

_ My boss is inviting me out for dinner. She wants me to bring my partner. _

_ Cas… you don’t have… _

_ I know… what will I do? She’s totally biased towards people in relationships. Last week she gave Jody a raise because she heard that Jody and her wife got a dog. She’s all about ‘family values’. _

_ Well… at least she’s not homophobic… _

_ No. Just arophobic, I suppose. Anyway, she’s going to overlook me for this promotion just because I don’t have a nice husband and a picket fence and a sedan. _

_ I mean… well, I mean, what if you did? For one night? _

Castiel could still feel the way his heart had twisted in his chest.

“You going to introduce me?” Dean said now, smiling at him. “Babe?”

At the pet name, Castiel felt his mouth go dry. His fingertips were tingling as though with pins and needles. This plan was never going to work. They were going to be caught within the first few minutes. But Dean had told him it would be fine - had said that they’d easily make it through the evening.

Dean knew that Castiel was a decent liar, and a good actor when he needed to be. Dean knew that Castiel was desperate to get this promotion. There were lots of things Dean knew - and there was just one thing that Dean didn’t know. One spanner in the works, one fly in this already bizarre and ridiculous ointment.

“Of course,” Castiel said.

The one thing he didn’t know -

“This is my partner,” Castiel said to Naomi and Bartholomew, “Dean.”

\- was that Castiel had been wishing he could honestly say those words for two years, now.

Dean beamed at Castiel’s boss and her husband, a winning smile. Just seeing him react so happily to Castiel’s words - fake though they were, just lies - had Castiel in a spin.

“Nice to meet you at last, Dean,” Naomi said smoothly, taking a sip of her water. “Castiel’s been with the company for almost five years and we’ve never met. Did you two only recently get together?”

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but Dean was already speaking.

“No, no. We moved in together about three years ago. We’ve been roommates ever since.”

“Roommates?”

“Well… in a manner of speaking,” Dean said, with a wink. He looked to Castiel, who gave him a look that would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him as well as Dean; Dean cleared his throat, and made an effort to look serious. “I guess just living together brought us closer, and after a while, I realised I was totally gone for this guy.”

He reached across the table, and Castiel struggled with himself for a moment before putting his hand in Dean’s and smiling across the table at Naomi and Bartholomew. He squeezed, and then let go.

“That’s nice,” Naomi said, though she sounded as cold as ever. “At the company we really value strong family values. We like our employees to be settled, happy people.”

And of course, Castiel thought bitterly, that could only be the case if the people were in a relationship. Never mind that he and Dean had been each other’s rocks since before Castiel had even developed romantic feelings for him, and had continued to be so throughout all these years without being in a romantic relationship.

Dean didn’t even feel that way about Castiel, after all. Castiel was pretty sure.

Three years of living together. He’d have noticed after three years.

“So, are you two thinking about the future?” Naomi said. “I notice there’s no wedding ring.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “Right. Well, uh… you know, sometimes things are a little complicated…”

Naomi’s neutral expression was turning into a frown.

“We’re very committed,” Castiel cut in. “It’s just, you know… we haven’t really spoken yet about that.”

“Why not?”

“Well…” Castiel looked back to Dean, his expression wide-eyed.

“Uh, it’s me,” Dean said. “I guess I just haven’t got my head out my ass and… uh, bought a ring yet.” Naomi still looked unimpressed, and Dean went on. “To tell the truth… I just haven’t been sure that Castiel really wanted me to. And I didn’t want to put any pressure on him or make it awkward between us, I guess. Sometimes I got a vibe, you know, but…” He looked back to Castiel. “I wasn’t… sure.”

Castiel stared at him.

“That’s very honest,” Naomi said, raising her eyebrows and looking down at her menu, as though finding Dean’s supposed truthfulness a little distasteful. “Let’s see if we can order.”

“You should be sure,” Castiel said to Dean, who was twisting his hands together under the table, where only Castiel could see.

Dean smiled at him, a little uncertainly.

They ordered, and the talk turned to smaller things: the weather, the upcoming Halloween party at work, the latest statistics at the company. Bartholomew held forth on golf for a long ten minutes, during which Dean kept kicking at Castiel’s leg under the table to try to make him laugh.

When the food finally arrived, Castiel hoped that they could eat in peaceable quiet; Naomi, however, seemed to have other plans. She fixed her gaze upon Dean, and said,

“So, do you plan on having a family?”

Castiel didn’t even know what the right answer to that was; Naomi didn’t like her employees taking parental leave and frequently expressed frustration when they did so, but also wanted everyone to be settled and family-oriented. He supposed it was asking too much for her to make sense and be consistent. When Dean hesitated, Castiel said,

“It’s a little early to be thinking about that.”

“I think Cas would make a great dad,” Dean said, “if he wanted to be.”

Castiel, taken by surprise, offered Dean a smile.

“I feel the same,” he said. “Dean would make an excellent father.”

After another ten minutes of small talk and eating, Dean excused himself to the bathroom; after a few moments, unable to resist, Castiel stood up and offered his apologies, too, to follow him.

In the bathroom - or rather, a fancy, carpeted, mirrored anteroom that led into the bathrooms themselves - Dean was washing his hands in a marbled sink. When Castiel came in, he turned around, and smiled. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello, Dean.”

“We make a pretty good pair,” Dean said, and Castiel’s heart skipped a beat. “I think we’re selling them on it, right?”

He stepped back towards the door, walking towards Castiel; he must have misjudged the distance, because he ended up very much in Castiel’s space. He smelled amazing - wearing his best cologne, Castiel thought. He smiled, and gently reached up to adjust Dean’s tie. He never normally would, but - well, tonight, they were together, weren’t they?

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said.

He looked up into Dean’s eyes, and Dean swallowed.

“We should get back out there,” Castiel said, after a long moment.

“They’ll think we’re doing things to each other in here,” Dean said, in agreement. Castiel tried not to let his mind wander towards what those things might be.

Dean left the bathroom first, and Castiel took a few moments to wash his own hands and give himself a look over in the mirror. He breathed in, and out. Was he reading too much into things, being too hopeful? When Dean had said those things about how he hadn’t been sure whether Castiel really wanted him to make a move…

No, it couldn’t be anything. Surely. It was just wishful thinking, being in this confusing situation where all their normal lines were being crossed.

The way Dean had looked at him, though… Castiel knew him well enough to recognise that Dean didn’t wear an expression like that lightly.

The idea that Dean might actually feel that way about him - Castiel couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. It was so exhilarating as to be terrifying. Castiel had decided with relative happiness over the last few years to enjoy being Dean’s best friend, to living with him for as long as he could, to just cherish being as close as possible for as long as it lasted. He knew Dean would eventually find someone else he liked romantically, and want to build a life with them - though the number of dates he’d been on had dropped off sharply over the past couple of years, now that Castiel really thought about it -

The point was, Castiel had never really entertained any real hope of Dean liking him back. It just wasn’t possible.

He left the bathroom, and sat back down at the table. When he rejoined the conversation, he realised that they were talking about hobbies, and Dean was discussing in very close detail the enjoyment that Castiel found in needlepoint.

The fact that Castiel had never embroidered so much as once in his life didn’t seem to be holding him back, particularly.

“And you should see the cushion he made for my aunt Mavis last Easter. Just two giant chickens, sitting on two giant eggs. I don’t want to know how they laid those things, but it sure was nice to look at. Maybe needed a vet afterwards, I don’t know. He’s just very skilled.”

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel said, “you’re too kind. Listen to you talking about my needlepoint and not even mentioning how good you are at singing.”

Dean’s expression split, momentarily, into absolute horror. He could immediately see where this was going, Castiel knew, with a burst of enjoyment.

“Oh, well, babe… don’t flatter me…” Dean said, awkwardly laughing.

“No, he’s fantastic,” Castiel insisted. “Operatic, you might say. Go on, Dean. Give them a little Puccini.”

“I don’t think this is the right…” Naomi said, sounding worried.

“Yeah, wrong setting for it,” Dean agreed, before she’d even finished her sentence.

“Are you sure? I think everyone would love to hear you. Remember the time you made a whole restaurant weep just by singing me ‘happy birthday’?”

Naomi’s protests slowed, and her eyebrows went up.

“Let’s order dessert,” Dean said, and hailed the waiter. Castiel pulled a wry face at Naomi and Bartholomew.

“He’s just very humble,” he said.

They shared a slice of apple pie for pudding; Castiel could feel Dean’s begrudgement of every bite Castiel took, but Naomi and Bartholomew were sharing and it seemed like a couple-y thing to do. It was delicious, at least. This place was going to break Castiel’s wallet, but at least it was worth the money.

When they were all finished, they paid for the meal, put on their coats, and made their way outside. Overall, Castiel thought, a successful night. Not exactly one that had been filled with sparkling conversation on all sides, but Naomi and Bartholomew didn’t seem at all suspicious - and with any luck, he’d have that promotion before the month was out.

“I’m getting a taxi,” Dean said, once they’d left the restaurant. He began to look towards the road, ready to hail one down. “Just need to drop back into work to pick up some stuff before heading home, babe.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel couldn’t bring himself to use a pet name, not even to sell the lie. He tucked his hands into his pockets, the cool September air nipping at them.

“Where do you work?” Naomi asked, sounding interested.

“I’m a -” Dean began, and Castiel knew how that sentence ended - tattoo artist, a profession that Naomi would never approve of.

“Bank!” he interrupted. All eyes turned to him. 

He cleared his throat.

“Dean works at a bank,” he said.

“Well,” Naomi said, looking a little confused, but apparently accepting it. “How nice. It was good meeting you, Dean.” She shook his hand, just as a taxi pulled up beside them - Bartholomew had seen it, and managed to catch the driver’s attention on Dean’s behalf.

“Thanks,” Dean said, shaking his hand, too. He turned to Castiel, who was standing right beside him. “Uh…”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Castiel suddenly filled with panic. Would a simple “goodbye” give the game away, after Castiel’s fairly suspicious answer to the question about Dean’s work? Did they have to -

Dean answered the question for him by leaning forward, and placing a quick, nervous, chaste kiss on Castiel’s lips. He pulled away, and looked Castiel in the eyes.

In that single, pivotal moment, Castiel knew. It was in Dean’s eyes, in the way he didn’t smile, in the way he swallowed. It was right there, in front of Castiel’s eyes.

And then Dean was in the taxi, and the door was slammed, and he was gone.

Castiel felt frozen. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

“Well, Castiel,” Naomi said. “That was a very pleasant evening. Perhaps tomorrow you can come to my office and we can discuss -”

“I quit,” Castiel said.

There was a long, long beat of silence. Neither Naomi nor Bartholomew moved, save that their mouths fell open in comically identical expressions of shock.

“You - what?” Naomi said.

“I quit,” Castiel repeated, calmly. It made perfect sense. He knew exactly what he wanted, now, and it wasn’t this crappy promotion. “I’ve had enough. Your policy on promotions and raises is discriminatory. You are nosy and judgemental. I have had enough. I will be sending you my formal letter of resignation tomorrow and coming to clear out my desk.”

“You - you will  _ not  _ be getting a reference from me,” Naomi spluttered, taking a step backward.

“Fine,” Castiel said, riding a high the like of which he’d never known. He turned to go and find his car in the nearby parking lot, but then caught himself; at the last moment, he looked back at the pair of them standing like agitated scarecrows on the street, and said, “Oh - and Dean does  _ not  _ work at a bank. He is a tattoo artist.”

And he walked away.

The drive passed in a haze. All this time - all these years. They’d been waiting for each other to make the first move, waiting for the perfect moment, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Castiel had had enough of waiting, now.

He stepped through the door of Dean’s tattoo parlour, which was in near-complete darkness. Dean was just making to leave, having switched off the lights. When he saw Castiel framed in the doorway, he went very still.

“Cas,” he said.

Cas didn’t speak - knew that if they talked, if they got caught up in sentences and explaining, then he might never have the courage that he needed. He walked across the dark tattoo parlour, and he put his hand on Dean’s cheek, and he looked into Dean’s eyes -

And then he kissed him. Softly, yes - and not for long, still hesitant - but into that kiss, that brief touch, he poured it all.

The wishing.

The longing.

The terrible, wonderful, terrifying hope.

He tried to pull away, but Dean’s hands came up to cup his face, and Castiel was being kissed back - was lost, suddenly, in a world of sensation. A world of fingertips and soft lips and nearness.

“Cas,” Dean said again, sounding rough and ragged and so, so happy, when they finally broke apart.

“You were right,” Castiel said. He kissed Dean again, swiftly, because he could, and Dean kissed him back, and they didn’t speak again for a while.

“I was?” Dean managed eventually.

“We make a pretty good pair,” Castiel said.

“You - you want to do this? For - for real?”

“More than anything,” Castiel said, “in the whole world.”


End file.
